


Roses are Red, Violets are Blue

by hisbespokesociopath



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, JohnlockChallenges Exchange, M/M, Tumblr: johnlockchallenges, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hisbespokesociopath/pseuds/hisbespokesociopath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither John Watson or Sherlock Holmes have dates and both end up at the same party. What could possibly happen?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roses are Red, Violets are Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moriartys-back-in-business](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=moriartys-back-in-business).



> Here is my gift for the Johnlock Exchange! You didn't give me much to work with, so I hope you like this. I'll be uploading the 2nd part tomorrow. My beta hasn't finished all the corrections and I want to make sure that at least this part gets up today. Enjoy!

Two cups precariously perched in both hands, John slowly made his way to the back table to deliver the steamy drinks to his friends. “Budge over, Stam,” John said, squeezing himself into the tiny space between the two of them on the booth. 

“Oy John,” Sally complained, “Couldn’t you just find another seat?”

“And miss being this close to you two? Never.” He gave the both of them a grin and reached to the table to pick up his phone to check for any new messages. “Besides, this is the most action I’ll be getting. I’m dateless for tomorrow.”

Sally snorted. “Don’t expect too much from me, lover boy. I’ve got a date for tomorrow.”

“A quick snag with Anderson after school doesn’t count,” Stamford cracked from the left of John. 

Reaching over, Sally swiped at Stamford’s head and missed by just inches. “That’s not funny Stamford,” she said, “He told me he had something to tell me tomorrow, so I bet hes gonna break it off with little Miss Perfect so he can take me out tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” John murmured into his coffee. A glance in her direction confirmed to him that she had heard him and he grinned at her, hoping to avoid a swat. 

“It’s not like you’ve got big plans yourself, John,” Sally reminded him. 

“I know, but it’s not really bothering me.”

This time it was Stamford who gave a snort. “John ‘Three-Continents’ Watson doesn’t have a date and it doesn’t bother him?” 

“You know how much I hate that nickname, you arse,” he replied, “And you know it’s not even technically true.” 

“Well, true or not, its no secret that you aren’t one to be dateless, especially on Valentines Day. Especially since you.. you know..” Stamford trailed off.

“Since he what?” Sally asked with a grin, “Since he decided snogging all the girls just wasn’t enough, he had to go after the blokes too?”

The tips of Stamfords ears pinked up and he shook his head, “Yeah, that.”

John shook his head and stood up. “As much fun as discussing my life has been, I think I’m gonna head out now.”

“You are coming over tomorrow aren’t you?” Sally asked.

“What’s going on tomorrow?”

Stamford pulled out his phone and quickly began to type. “I’m having a party tomorrow since my parents are out of town for the weekend. I’ve texted you the address, you should come.”

A silent buzz confirmed that John had indeed gotten the message and he shrugged. “Maybe.” With that he turned and walked out of the coffee shop. Content to not have to discuss the dreaded holiday for the rest of the day. 

\---<3---

Snapping the rubber gloves off, Sherlock opened his notebook and quickly scribbled down the remainder of his findings. Satisfied with his results he began packing up his area, trying to clear out of the lab before the other students began fileing in for class. 

“Sherlock?” Stamford called out as he entered the room. It wasn’t unusual to see his friend in the labs before class began. 

“Yes, Stamford?” Sherlock replied impatiently as he turned to shelf the microscope he had been using, “Been out again with Sally then?”  
“Well, yeah,” He said with a slight chuckle, “How’d you know?” 

The clues were there, but as always no one bothered to look. The flush to his cheeks, the jovial incline to his voice, the small coffee splotch on his jacket, and various other things all pointed to coffee with Sally and a friend, but rather than rumbling through the usual speech Sherlock decided to just lie. “Just a guess. You’re usually where she goes.”

“That is what friends do, Sherlock, they hang out with either other.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he murmured. 

If Stamford had heard him, he choose to ignore the statement and began unpacking his books. “Say, mate, you should come by the house tomorrow. My parents are out of town and I’m going to be having a party.”

The disdain was clear on Sherlock’s face. A party filled with people who made it their mission to exploit him as a ‘freak’ didn’t sound all that appealing. “Maybe,” he said noncommittally, “If I don’t have anything else going on.” He turned and slid into the desk opposite Stamford, waiting for class to begin.

“Well, I’m texting you the address now. Drop by if you can.”

\---<3---

The music thumped loudly in the back of his mind as John weaved his way through the crowded room, looking for his group of friends. Why he had agreed to come tonight, he’d never know, but it did beat sitting in his room listening to Harry get off with her girlfriend through the wall. 

“Hey, Mate, over here!”

Turning, John could see Stamford waving his arm, signaling him over towards a circle of seats in the corner of the room. He gave them a smile and rushed over, eager to get away from the throngs of people gyrating in the center of the room. 

“Glad you could make it, John.” Stamford said with a smile. “No last minute date then?”

“Nah,” John answered with a slight shrug. “I really didn’t meet anyone that appealed to me.”

“John ‘Three Cont-,” his friend began.

“Oy, enough with the nickname. If I hear it again I’m gonna give you a ‘Three-Continents’ punch in the nose,” John said, half jokingly.

Knowing when to quit, Stamford raised his hands in a sign of defeat. “No more, I promise.”

“Good.” Taking a swig from the red cup in his hands, John relaxed in his seat, content on people watching. It had become one of his favorite activities when coming to big crowded parties like this. Across the room he could see a flash of a messy mop of curls parting the crowd of half drunk teenagers. 

As the strangers drew closer, John could see what looked like him stopping to talk to some girl, but when the girl turned to flee the room in tears, he figured that it hadn’t gone well. “Who’s that?” John asked, jerking his chin towards the boy. 

“Ah, that would be Sherlock Holmes,” Stamford answered. “Didn’t think he’d actually show.”

John nodded and watched Sherlock turn again and start towards their area. “He not big on parties?”

“Sherlock’s not much on anything,” He answered truthfully, “I don’t know much about the guy to be honest.” 

“But you invited him?”

“Yeah, it seemed like the nice thing to do, ya know?” Stamford turned to John, “Why so many questions? Found someone you might have appealed to you?”

“Shove off,” John said with a roll of the eyes. “It was just a question.”

“Sure.”

With that, Sherlock finally made it to their table and had an expression that was equal parts exasperated and annoyed. “This party is tedious,” he said in a baritone much deeper then John would have expected. “And the alcohol is cheap.” 

“Nice to see you too, Sherlock.” Stamford motioned in John’s direction, “This is John Watson. Rugby buddy.”

“Hm,” Sherlock mumbled, passing his eyes over John. “Has the shoulder injury affected your plans on joining the Army?”

John glanced at Stamford, “You told him about me?” He shook his head in denial. “Nope, not a word.”

“How did you-?” The question died in his mouth as those piercing eyes narrowed in on him.

“The way you tap your fingers suggests right handed, but the drinking you are nursing is in your left hand. You’ve got droplets on the collar of your shirt, so clearly you aren’t completely adept at using both hands and you wouldn’t be using your left hand voluntarily. So, ambidextrous is ruled out which just leaves injury. Shoulder movements are limited and there are no obvious scars on the forearm, so the only logical explanation left would be right arm shoulder injury, probably sustained in some sort of rugby accident.”

The dark haired boy stepped back as if expecting some sort of reprimand. “That was..” John began, still slack jawed, “amazing.”

“Amazing?” Sherlock parroted back, clearly confused.

“Yes, that was amazing.”

“That’s not normally what people say.”

“What did they usually say?” John asked.

“Piss off.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Ordinary people are boring.”

Something twinkled in Sherlock’s eye when John said that and he couldn’t help but feel a little twinge. 

“I agree. Do you have plans for the night?” Sherlock asked as nonchalantly as possible. “I don’t plan on hanging around much longer.”

John shook his head and glanced at Stamford who grinned and leaned into him. “Looks like you might have plans after all.”

He punched his friend in the arm playfully. “Shove off.” With that he gathered his few items and stood up. 

“Where to?”

Sherlock smiled, “I’ll show you one of my favorite places.”

**Author's Note:**

> My beta didn't have time to completely beta this one, so all mistakes and mine and mine alone.


End file.
